


Tailor

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Game(s), Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Markus buys a suit.
Relationships: Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	Tailor

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Simon’s pale fingers smooth along Markus’ broad shoulders, chasing out the wrinkles and leaving the black fabric as even as the ocean on a calm blue day. The new light at his temple is a similar cerulean, letting Markus know exactly how he’s feeling: peaceful, _happy_. There’s a soft smile on his lips as his eyes trail down Markus’ body, taking in every little detail of the suit, and even though Markus already has picture-perfect posture, he tries to stand a little straighter under that heavy scrutiny. He wants to look _good_ for Simon, though he’s supposed to be shopping for Thursday’s conference, where he’ll have to convince a dozen high-up humans that more android rights need to come. It’s important that he look the part, that they think he _fits in_ , that they take him seriously. Markus could’ve made that determination himself inside the changing room.

But he came out to face the tall mirror on the boutique floor because he wanted Simon’s opinion. It’s proving wholly worth it. 

Simon’s delicate touch strolls down the silvery lapels, spreading out across Markus’ chest, hands lingering longer than they need to. His eyes dance over Markus’ body, tracing each dart and seam, and then they fix somewhere over Markus’ left shoulder. That pretty smile dissipates into something of a frown, and Markus doesn’t have to initiate an interface to know that Simon’s processors have kicked into overdrive. His eyes are more expressive than any human’s; Markus can see so much more than his own reflection in them. 

He turns to follow Simon’s gaze, spotting another android at the til—another PL600 with Simon’s blond hair and blue eyes, the same body shape and even the same dimples when he smiles at a customer. He’s serving a human woman and her child, prattling off information straight out of the manual, decked out in a generic uniform, probably not all that different than the one Simon used to wear. Markus instantly understands. 

As Simon’s hands fall away from him, Markus catches one wrist. He transfers a quick burst of information, a harried overload not big enough to truly overwhelm Simon’s senses, not like the dizzying rush Simon gives him every night, but just a small spark to draw Simon back to him. Simon’s simulated breath hitches, lashes fluttering as he processes, assimilates, settles back down. When he glances back at Markus, his cheeks are lightly flushed, embarrassment protocols in motion. Markus’ thumb rubs a soothing circle along the back of Simon’s hand. 

“It’s okay,” he promises, even though they both know it’s still _not okay_ for so many of their people. “Detroit’s liberated. If he works here, it’s voluntary. They pay him.” It’s entirely possible that they _don’t_ , but Connor keeps a tight grip on the new laws, and this PL600 has that telltale light in his eyes that denotes he’s _awake_ and knows his worth. But Simon shakes his head like it doesn’t help. 

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

Perhaps it’s the simple eeriness of seeing his own face on someone else. Josh and North have expressed as much on a few occasions. It’s something Markus himself has never had to face. Before he can say how lucky the world is to have so many handsome blonds in it, Simon explains, “I just saw him look at you, and I can’t help but think he knows exactly who you are... and also knows how drop-dead gorgeous you look in this suit.”

It’s Markus’ turn to blush, a grin twitching at his lips even as he snorts. He can tell that that was genuinely Simon’s concern, because he always knows when Simon’s lying to him, and right now, Simon’s eyeing him up like he’s Simon’s main mission. He twists his grip around so that he can slide his fingers between Simon’s, just enough synthetic skin peeling away to _feel_ the raw plating of Simon’s palm. He promises, both aloud and through their bond, “You’re the only PL600 for me.” The only _person_ for him. Simon’s smile crawls back, like he just can’t help himself, loses all control of his programming whenever he’s with Markus. 

It’s a system error Markus knows all too well. The instability rises further when Simon leans in, brushing his lips over Markus’: a soft kiss chaste enough for public, but loving enough for Markus to drown in it. As Simon settles back, he murmurs, “You should buy this one. You look fabulous.” Then there’s a brief pause, where Simon reaches up to toy with Markus’ lapels again before straightening his tie. “Although... it might be a bit flashy for Thursday’s negotiations...”

Markus has a feeling he knows, but he asks anyway, “So why get it?”

“To wear at home.”

Markus watches those talented fingers deftly adjust his tie, and all he can do is pre-construct them _taking it off_ , Simon carefully removing every stitch of fabric on him and letting him return the favour. They don’t need a new outfit for that scenario, but this outfit has Simon’s LED steadily whirring, and that exhilarating sign is part of why Simon reinstalled it in the first place. That and pride in what they are. And Markus knows they couldn’t have made it to where they are without people like Simon by his side. 

He lifts Simon’s hand to his mouth, presses a firm kiss to the back, and suggests, “Let’s find you a matching one.”

Grinning wide, Simon nods, then turns and strolls towards the other PL600, politely asking if it also comes in their size.


End file.
